Perspective
by InSilva
Summary: Working the con with Danny and Rusty. One-shot.


Perspective by InSilva

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of an Ocean's nature.

Summary: Working the con with Danny and Rusty. One-shot.

* * *

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't consider myself one of the bad guys but I can understand how other people might. It's not always easy for me to think like that but I try to put myself in another man's place, walk a mile in his shoes, etc. And I can see that I would not necessarily be welcome at every dinner table. Christmas cards would not necessarily be forthcoming. In other words, I do get it. But having said all that, I take a pride in what I do. I am talented and others think so too. I'm well rewarded for my services and I get a real sense of satisfaction, a real feeling of achievement. And given the amount of time you spend at work, that's what you want to come back home with.

Anyway. I'm rambling. But that's kind of something to do with the fact that I'm sitting nervously in a hotel suite beside a cold beer and a bowl of peanuts and I'm in the presence of masters. I can feel the sweat building up just watching them.

The dark-haired one. Danny Ocean. Leaning up against the wall and looking at me, cool as you like. Presence. Charisma. Untouchable. Bet the ceiling could collapse and he'd just be standing in the middle of dust and debris, surrounded by chaos, not a mark on him. Probably wouldn't even blink. Looking out at the world and you wonder just exactly what he's seeing because I'm willing to bet the world doesn't look quite the same out of his eyes.

And Rusty Ryan, the blond. Who's currently laying back in a chair and throwing and catching peanuts in his mouth. I saw him walk into the room and he's got a nifty little trick going on. All loud shirt and the charm and the gloss and I feel like I could size him up straightaway, dismiss him straightaway. But that's what he wants people to do and most people would. It's his eyes that give the game away. Just occasionally. Far too much going on there and occasionally, you can glimpse it. He is so much more than a pretty face.

Yes, I'm nervous. In my position, who wouldn't be?

"Jackie," Danny says eventually and I sit a little straighter in my chair.

"That's my name, Jackie Jackson," I nod and I smile. "Always think my mother should have had a bit more imagination."

Danny grins at me and I relax a little.

"Names can be tricky things."

"So can imagination," Rusty adds and there's a little look between them. He sits upright and brushes salt off his hands and doesn't seem to notice that his mouth is now as shiny as his shirt. Or maybe he does.

Danny pushes forward off the wall and strolls over to sit on the arm of Rusty's chair.

"You want to tell us a little about yourself?" Danny asks and I smile again.

"Sure. I normally work out of Houston but I've been away for a little while."

"Abroad?" from Rusty.

"Inside," I admit apologetically. "Wasn't my fault. Just a little unlucky."

Danny's smile is sympathetic. "Well, bad luck and inside can happen to any of us."

Rusty isn't looking at him but I see his lips purse.

"I can handle myself," I say quickly. "I'm fast and I'm good."

"Well, you have to understand that you came looking for us," Rusty says softly. "You worked with anybody we might know?"

"Morgan Weller…Charlie Willis…George Sutherland…" They're shaking their heads at me and I throw in a last resort. "Phil Turrentine."

"Phil?" Danny picks up the name.

"You work with him often?" Rusty asks.

I pause and then give a rueful grin. "Not since he died from skin cancer the other year."

"Poor Phil," Danny sighs and there is a solemn moment for the three of us.

Rusty's tongue flicks out and his eyebrows raise as if he's just realised there's salt to be had and then says, "You find us at a convenient time."

"We have something we're planning and we could do with a safe pair of hands."

"A young gentleman we would normally invite to join us has been unfortunately detained."

"Nothing that's going to stick-"

"-at least we hope so-"

"-if it does-"

"-we will be very-"

"-extremely-"

"-disappointed," Rusty finishes and I wonder how they do that.

"Right," I nod. "Well, what's the target?"

"The take is five figures each," Danny says.

"What's the target?" I repeat and Rusty gives a little low laugh that I don't understand in the slightest.

They glance at each other and there's something unspoken going on that's impenetrable and then Danny nods.

"I found someone a few days ago who collects Japanese porcelain. You know anything about it?"

"No," I say truthfully. "It sounds exotic."

"Oh, it is," Rusty agrees. "Also very fragile."

"Handle with care," Danny adds. "Anyway. The man – Adam Marsh – has a big appetite for it and a wallet that's open wide."

"So what's the play?" And if it's a switcheroo or a pig in a poke, I'm a little disappointed. Somehow, with these two involved, I expect a little more. "You going to pass off some Tupperware-"

"No, no," Rusty interrupts. "The porcelain's going to be real."

I grin because that means we're going to have to acquire the goods and that means I'm going to see the pair of them in action.

"Porcelain will be real," Danny echoes. "So will the cash."

"So when do we start?" I ask eagerly.

"Already have," Rusty smiles and with an elegance that's all his own, he swings an arm out and pulls a set of plans into view.

"I'm in?" I can't quite believe my luck and I just want to be certain.

Danny's smile is warm and definite. "You're in, Jackie," he confirms and my heart leaps. "And to answer your next question, now."

"Tonight," Rusty elaborates.

"Unless you have something else on."

"No," I beam. "There's nothing else I want to be doing."

* * *

The plans are to a private house and there are alarms and lasers and who knows what but it looks like Rusty has been busy. There are pencil marks everywhere and I frown at them, willing them to make sense. Impossible. Speaking of which, Danny and Rusty are over by the window and Rusty is…Rusty is doing a handstand and Danny's catching his legs.

"Er…guys?"

Rusty drops back down to the floor and I see a bar of chocolate being handed over.

"That part of the job?" I ask and Rusty grins.

"No."

Right. I shake my head and turn back to the plans.

"So we go in…"

"Here." Danny's finger lands on a first-floor window. "House is empty. Owner's abroad. The room's not linked to the main alarm and all we need to do is lift a floorboard-"

"-_two _floorboards-"

"-_two_ floorboards, and break the circuit and we're laughing."

"Down the stairs..."

"…secondary circuit…"

"…kill the lasers…"

"…into the study…"

"…crack the safe…"

"…exit here," Rusty taps the French windows that lead out to the pool. He looks with amusement at Danny. "And _then_ we're laughing."

Danny waggles his head at him, acknowledging that there might be a little bit more to it than he had suggested.

I nod intelligently and I can see the picture they're painting, the shape of the plan and the little details dripping off it. Something I want to check, though.

"It's just going to be the three of us? Don't you guys usually have a bigger crew?"

"Bigger crew?" Danny's eyebrows are raised.

"I thought I heard…well, I thought I heard."

"Where'd you hear, Jackie?" Rusty asks casually.

"Who're we supposed to know?" Danny is amused.

I hesitate and then shrug. It's obviously an area that's out of bounds at the moment. "No one, I guess."

"That's us then," Rusty smiles. "We know no one."

Danny fishes some clothes and ski masks out of a holdall and tosses a set my way.

"You must have been pretty certain you'd want me on board," I say, inspecting the black jumper and pants.

"We were fairly sure," Rusty agrees. "And also-"

"-you found us at a convenient time."

* * *

The raid on the mansion goes like clockwork. Danny and Rusty move with the ease and the grace of years of working together and even though I have about ten years on them, I keep slipping behind. I scold myself and try not to get lost in marvelling at how fluidly they operate. It's hard.

We move silently and confidently through the house with the polished wood floors and the Persian rugs and the clocks and the oak tables and the vases. I am just enjoying the ride and it is the biggest thrill when either one or the other of them turns to me and I can assist with lifting a floorboard or holding a wire or blocking a laser. They trust me. They've given me their confidence and I am so, so happy to be included.

Danny and I take the mirror down in the study and Rusty laces his hands together and flexes his fingers and then applies himself to the task in hand. I almost forget to breathe as I watch him, still and perfectly focused, and then the door to the safe swings open and the little case with the precious porcelain inside is revealed.

Danny pulls it out and Rusty is already moving to the exit and then the three of us are out of there and away.

* * *

"Wow," I exclaim as Rusty pulls into the hotel. "That was electric!"

Danny gives me an indulgent smile and as we walk across the parking lot, he switches on his cell phone and frowns.

"Missed call."

"Important?" Rusty wants to know.

"Adam Marsh." And yes, that is important indeed.

"Adam? Adam!" Danny's voice is suddenly exceedingly well-bred. "Julian Ingram. Returning your call. How the devil are you?"

Rusty and I are listening to a one-sided conversation that is full of "I see" and "No, I understand" and we look at each other and at Danny. Something is not going to plan.

"Well…" Danny has a hesitation in his voice. "I suppose I could always come over to your hotel now…if you were…I mean if you have to fly out in the morning…alright, then. I'll see you in half an hour in the hotel bar. I'll be bringing my associate, Eric Burroughs, with me. Eric deals with finances. Yes. Half an hour."

Danny snaps the phone shut and looks at Rusty and me.

"Slight change of plan. Adam's blowing town." He glances at me. "It's supposed to be Rusty alongside me but with this…I really need Rusty ready to run distraction if we need it. You want to come in with me? It's a bit of an ask but you carry yourself well and-"

"Of course!" As if he needed to ask.

Danny studies me for a moment and then nods.

"Little two-hander. We take the case in, Adam produces the money. We each leave happy. Rusty waits and if we need him, I'll signal."

"You gonna make a noise like an owl?" Rusty asks with interest.

Danny looks at him levelly. "How many owls frequent hotel bars?"

I hide my grin and Rusty actually looks like he's thinking about it.

"There are bar owls," he protests.

"Barn owls, Rus."

"Oh, like you know Nature."

I laugh and they both look at me and I can't stop the big grin that's on my face because they are as brilliant and as special and as impossible and as funny as I've been told. And I'm seeing them from the inside.

* * *

Rusty is going to wait in reception. The signal, it turns out, is Danny hitting redial on his phone and he's also given me a verbal one – "Don't fancy the Yankees this season" – to tell me to get out and to get running.

"Not that I think this is a set up," he tells me as we wander into the hotel, "but you never can tell and I'd want to make sure you were safe, Jackie."

That's something else I've heard. They care about the people they work with. Makes them vulnerable, I guess. I guess it also makes people want to work with them.

Adam Marsh is an elderly gentleman with thick black-rimmed spectacles and a neat little grey moustache waiting for us at a booth at the back of the hotel bar.

"Julian, a pleasure to see you again and thank you for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Adam. This is Eric."

I shake Adam's hand formally and we all sit down together.

"You have the merchandise?" Adam asks eagerly and I can feel the sudden tension in Danny at my side.

"Well, we can discuss that in a moment. Shall we order drinks?"

"Oh, my manners. Forgive me."

A waiter has delivered three whiskies and I am looking at Adam a little more keenly and wondering and worrying and I am almost certain Danny is feeling the same way I am. Adam's a little too keen and that is…well, that complicates things.

Eventually, Danny opens the case, its contents facing the wall, facing away from the room at large. I can't see inside properly but Adam reaches in and picks up a cup as if it were the Holy Grail itself.

"Magnificent!" he breathes and lays it back in the case with reverence.

He makes to take the case and Danny closes the lid firmly and it disappears off the table and down by Danny's feet.

"Of course," Adam nods. "I was a little carried away. I do apologise."

Danny shoots me a quick look and I give a slight nod. The man seems forgetful as hell. It may all be down to excitement but then again…

"Here."

An attaché case is placed on the table facing Danny and me and Adam's fingers click the combination and open it. My jaw drops slightly. Rows and rows of green dollar bills. Impressive. The lid drops down again firmly and the case too is taken away out of sight.

"The Noriake is breathtaking, isn't it?" Danny says suddenly. "It's no wonder it's so valuable."

"It is," Adam agrees, again a little too quickly. "It has a beauty beyond measure and so it's only right that it's almost impossible to put a price on it."

"I'm glad you were able to do so, Adam." Danny is smiling but his right thigh is pressing into mine and his next words come as no surprise because that was clearly a test and Adam has failed it.

"So, you follow sports much, Adam? Basketball, football, baseball…?"

"No, I don't, Julian." There is an air of puzzlement and I hope Danny isn't going to blow it.

"Probably wise. Don't fancy the Yankees much this season."

Damn. Damn. But I have to go along with it.

"If you'll excuse me, I just need to visit the bathroom," I say and I see approval in Danny's eyes.

I get up and I turn my back and I walk away and I'm not certain if the deal is being made behind me or not or what double-cross Adam Marsh has planned and all I do know for sure is that there is money and stolen goods sitting underneath the table. I have to find Rusty and fast.

Rusty is sitting nonchalantly – and really, that's a word that was created to describe Rusty – in a chair in reception. He looks up when he sees me without indicating once that he knows me.

"Can I help?" he asks and I smile a sad smile. In spite of everything, I like him.

Plain clothes men appear behind me and they flash a badge at Rusty who looks as surprised as I think he ever will i.e. not very. Damn but the man is unflappable.

"If you'll be good enough to accompany us, sir."

As they lead Rusty away and outside, I head back into the bar and I'm so relieved to see Danny and Adam still sitting, still with cases down by their feet. Part of me was terrified that they would have disappeared from the face of the earth. We approach the table and Danny's face is as inscrutable as Rusty's.

"This him?"

I nod and the badge that identifies Detective Elliott invites Danny to keep his hands on the table. Adam is asked to do similar and the cases are produced. I almost want to tell Danny I'm sorry.

"Please open them," Elliott asks and they do so.

I find myself looking down at two sets of files and paperwork. No money. No stolen china.

"I don't understand…" I whisper.

Elliott is frowning at the cases and at me.

"What's this all about, officer?" Danny asks.

"Wondering that." Elliott's tone is cool.

"There's a house. A-a mansion," I say quickly. I can take you to it. We robbed it together."

Elliott considers for a moment and then sucks his teeth and nods.

"Alright. I'll buy it."

We leave Adam Marsh behind and we go outside to an unmarked car to play ridealong with Danny and Rusty sitting cuffed in the backseat. I'm sitting in front of them and I feel truly like Judas. I never feel like Judas. This is the first time I've really regretted what I do.

I take us all to the house we were in only a couple of hours earlier.

"No one's home," I explain to Elliott as he rings the front doorbell. "Owner's abroad."

Danny and Rusty are standing behind us with the men from the second police car beside them. I am not looking at them. I refuse to look at them. They are just like any other mark. Any other criminal that I rat out. Any other lowlife that I get onside and then betray and get paid to do so. Sure. I'll keep telling myself that.

Sure enough, there's no answer and Elliott nods at one of the men who uses his nightstick to break the glass on the door and force an entry. We move inside and my jaw drops further than it did when I saw the money earlier. The house is bare. No carpet, no curtains, no furniture.

"Wow. They've been robbed," Rusty remarks and receives a hard look from Elliott.

"No. No." I refuse to believe it. "We came in through the first floor window. We took up floorboards. There were wires. There were _lasers_. We went into this room-"

I break off and sprint to the study but there is no safe. There is only blank, smooth wall. There is nothing.

The others arrive behind me and Elliott has seen enough.

"Thanks for wasting our time," he says to me with disgust. "Alright, gentlemen, apologies for the misunderstanding, you're free to go. Uncuff them, lads. Can we drop you back in town?"

Dimly, I am aware of Rusty rubbing his wrists and Danny stretching and there is some conversation about an iguana and Timothy Dalton and all I am doing is standing in the middle of an empty house and wondering where it all went wrong.

* * *

I see them once more. They come looking for me and I get up from my seat in the backstreet bar where I'm nursing my hurt pride and professional reputation and I am already looking for exits. Whatever they might say about these two not being violent, I am still very certain that there are going to be no dinner party invitations and that Christmas cards are out of the question. And I'm really not that convinced there's not going to be violence.

"Sit down, Jackie," Danny instructs and Rusty smiles a smile that warns there will be consequences for disobedience.

I sink back down on to my barstool and they take up residence on the seats either side. I open my mouth to talk but Rusty lays a hand on my arm and shushes me with his eyes. They wave away the bartender and then Danny begins.

"There are rules in this game, Jackie. Not many but some. And what you do for a living isn't looked on kindly. Now, we don't know who asked you to arrange this little charade-"

"- though we do have thoughts-"

"-definite thoughts," Danny agrees. "But we would like to make something clear."

"_Two _things clear."

"Two things. One is that Linus had better be released without charge. And the second is that you pull anything like this again on anyone we know and like and you are going to discover there is a whole different side to us than you've seen."

Danny's eyes are dark and deadly and I glance at Rusty and his are blue and hard and I swallow. Then the threat passes from both their expressions like out of place cloud in a summer sky. They stand up and they start to walk away and I find I have to say something.

"It wasn't personal!"

They turn as one and look enquiringly at me.

"It was only business," I finish lamely and Rusty gives a small groan and fishes out a bar of chocolate which Danny accepts with a smile.

"We know," Danny says and there is no warmth in his expression. "And leaving you to face the music with those who hired you?"

"That's only business, too," Rusty says coldly.

And they're gone.

Nervelessly, I sit down again and look down at my phone with sudden dread. Just because there have never been consequences before, doesn't mean they're wrong. They're right. There are going to be consequences.

Europe. I feel the sudden need to take a vacation.

* * *

A/N: Oh, lots of echoes. Mamet and "Hustle" and yet, bizarrely, I'm thinking of a "Deep Space Nine" episode with Colm Meaney to the forefront. Yeah. Anyway. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
